every mother's worst nightmare

so, this afternoon after i got out of the shower (yes, it was AFTERnoon. judge me), i thought to myself, "i can't even hear the kids! they must be playing so nicely," because normally carson would be torturing layla in some traumatic (to her) way and she'd be screaming bloody murder. so, because it was deliciously peaceful, i took my time getting dressed, brushing my hair, etc. it was glorious.

when i finally ventured out of my room (okay, it was about 4 minutes after my shower...yes, even that small amount of alone-time can be heavenly), the house remained quiet. very quiet. eerily quiet. some dining room chairs had been pulled out, but other than that, there was no sign of my kids. nor was there any sign that they'd gone outside -- their shoes remained where they'd last left them (i.e., scattered across the living room carpet), and layla's sippy was still on the fireplace. odd. she normally won't leave home without it in the middle of the day.

i called for them all around the upstairs and downstairs...no answer. i opened the back door and casually called their names outside. nothing. no sound in the front yard, either. i walked up the sidewalk a little in the direction that they like to "go on adventures." no sign of them. i backtracked, calling their names in a "calm" voice but inside beginning to get very nervous. (as i write this, knowing that there's a happy ending, i can use the word "nervous." but i guess if i'm being completely honest, all of these things were adding up to something not normal for my kids, and i was, to put it mildly, borderline freaking out and fingering my cell phone to call 9-1-1. but, for the sake of what you all might think of my unsubstantiated maternal paranoia, i'll just leave it at "nervous.")

coming back inside, i began searching again, room by room, calling their names some more. my search so far had gone on for about 5-10 minutes, which seemed like an eternity and i was near tears. but finally, i got to the last room at the end of the hall downstairs, where the door was shut. opening it, lo and behold, were my two beloved munchkins, happily feasting together on an indoor "picnic."

it was too cute. all by themselves they'd gathered, off the high shelves in the kitchen, their edible goods - a sack of peanuts, fruit snacks, the last few slices of a loaf of bread, a banana in the fruit bowl, and a capri sun - and had invited their favorite dolls to attend. they looked so pleased with themselves when i opened the door, and greeted me so happily, and invited me to join them so readily, and had so obviously NOT been kidnapped, that i nearly cried.

and the picnic was delightful.